Blood Red, Snow White
by milkteahoneysugar
Summary: Excerpt: The war ended — that's for sure. The Light won, although you can't tell. Both sides suffered heavy losses, resulting in at least half of the entire Wizarding World dead. Dramione Oneshot


**Hey guys, this is a story uploaded from my other account with some revisions (not copied). I hope you'll enjoy it!**

The war ended — that's for sure.

The Light won, although you can't tell.

Both sides suffered heavy losses, resulting in at least half of the entire Wizarding World dead. Her friends were gone — that's for sure. Harry sacrificed himself to kill Voldemort — it succeed… unfortunately. It would've been nice if he came out of it alive. Ron died trying to protect her from a horde of angry Veelas. It didn't work, she'd been poisoned — until someone came and saved her. She wished she had died with the rest of her friends. Luna and Seamus disappeared in a pack of werewolves while Dean, Ginny, and Neville had been given the Kiss. Kingsley killed Bellatrix and himself with an explosion — along with Lucius Malfoy and Tonks. She was the only one alive.

When her parents died, she thought she was already at the point of no return. But nothing - nothing can compare to what she felt now. Her parents were older than her… she understood — accepted that they had to die at one point. But her friends… she thought that after they won the war, they would be able to grow old together, laughing about the stories from their childhood while sitting next to the fireplace surrounded by their grandchildren.

She didn't know that she would be the only one left.

The Ministry — what's left of it, anyway — buried them in the cemetery dedicated to war heroes. She'd asked to bury her friends in the back of Parkinson Manor. The temporary Minister for Magic had insisted she live there, since the Parkinsons were long gone anyway. She'd been selfish — she knew — but a part of her wanted to protect her family, even in death.

It wasn't until after the battle that she realized that both sides were gone, all killed, except her… and Draco Malfoy. She'd lifted her horrified eyes up to the gruesome scene: the Hogwarts grounds littered with dead bodies, friend and foe. For days after that battle, she'd been in a trance, her half dead eyes staring at nothing in particular, wondering and reminiscing about the what-ifs and what-could've-beens. Her once warm brown eyes, alight with knowledge and curiosity, had now dulled, as if her spirit had been sucked out of her. Undead. When she looked in a mirror, all she could see were soulless, haunted, wary, battle hardened orbs that stared back at her. Her hair, which had once been a mass of lively, untamable curls, now hung lifelessly against her shoulders. Burdens from the war and age caught up to her. Her body was always tense, as if expecting an attack. Her shoulders were hunched, she felt as if the burden of the world was thrown on her shoulder. She felt numb, nothing could hurt her, because nothing could compare to what she felt now, that empty, lonely feeling in her heart, the bitter feeling that she now got used to.

The first 5 months would be spent staring mindlessly out the windows at the 500 year old oak trees that stand tall and proud in her new garden, wondering why was she the only survivor, not Harry, not Ron.

Now, she sat in the swimming pool, a luxury she thought she'd never be able to have, in the middle of the night, contemplating the what if's and what could've been if she had died that night along with the rest of her friends. Her hand cupped the water, and she stared, transfixed as what seemed like liquid moonlight seep through her fingers back into the pool. Just like her hope, it was gone in seconds, crushed as she saw the broken bodies of her friends. Harry's eyes, once filled with a mischievous spark, was now lifeless. Ron's smile, which had once lit up her world, was no more.

The bright constellations in the sky seemed to be taunting her, always out of reach, but shining nonetheless, reminding her of a future that she had lost. She looked up at the starry sky; remembering an agonizing goodbye to a life that should've been, but never was. She wondered if they were up there somewhere, if they were happy now.

The water rippled as someone else joined her in the enormous pool, handing her a bottle of vodka. She gladly accepted it and took a sip, closing her eyes as the burning liquid slipped down her throat, distracting her from her dark thoughts. He always came at night, both had lost everyone and everything due to the war. They found solace in each other's arms, a comforting embrace they thought they'd never have again. He wrapped a tan arm, colored from all those days he spent fighting with the Dark Lord and stained with the faint pattern of the Dark Mark, around her waist. A peaceful silence fell over them.

A month ago he'd asked for her hand in the garden, right next to her marble fountain with a beautiful emerald and ruby ring— an old family heirloom.

She refused. She felt as if she were betraying her friends by marrying their childhood nemesis.

He was fine, if not a little hurt. He understood. And he kept up his routine of coming to her every night. And every night, he'd ask her again, hoping that this time, it would be yes.

The chilly winter's breeze drifted past them as the comfortable silence continued. The sound of an incoming blizzard filled the air as the smell of her orchid scented candles wafted towards them.

He was offering her a new life, she knew. One where they could have another chance, to try for the happiness they once thought they couldn't have. They could have children, live to a ripe old age, restart a relationship as friends. But part of her wouldn't — couldn't — let go of the past. One where they'd been enemies, one where he'd called her "Mudblood" and she called him "Ferret" and they threw hexes at one another in the halls of Hogwarts. But that seemed like a lifetime ago, a time when she'd truly been happy, a time when everything was a paradise.

Her friends would have wanted her to marry him, if he made her happy.

Happiness. That word seemed strange to her now. She was hardly ever happy. The closest she'd got to that was peaceful, if not heartbroken.

But he was always there, understanding and comforting her, slowly pulling her out of this black hole of sinking misery.

And as the bitter winter snow fell, she stared into his mercury colored eyes as he asked for her hand again. The eyes of Draco Malfoy, her old childhood enemy was now the eyes of her only companion.

And this time, she said… yes.


End file.
